


Microtransgressions

by ChingKittyCat



Category: Kirby (Video Games), Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Gen, Post-Canon, contains team clash spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChingKittyCat/pseuds/ChingKittyCat
Summary: Magolor realizes why his business model isn't working.





	Microtransgressions

It was maybe.. Just two days ago that Parallel Nightmare had shown up and caused havoc. Now, Magolor heard from the gleeful chirps of Bandanna Dee sitting across the way, the fellow was defeated. Not only that, but mere hours later, the same was done to Parallel Nightmare's little Aeon Hero he'd apparently summoned. It was over.

Magolor had been bought out of house and home, all his equipment sold— except for those potions, he got plenty of those and Kirby seemed disinterested in them up until these last few fights. Now, he'd smiled cheerfully across the way like the good little kitty cat he was, oh so happy for Kirby's achievements. Nothing was nicer than peace for the common folk.

When Kirby and his cohorts disappeared the hour after, Magolor knew they were gone, permanently. He'd recalled when this had happened multiple years ago, what with the whole Taranza ordeal. This time, Kirby took a nice little break and allowed the whole situation to continue for two days. Last time, everything had wrapped up in a solid twenty-four hours.

Then, Kirby'd vanished. Just like the monsters and the problems, gone seemingly without trace or discussion.. Up until now. When that Hornhead appeared, Kirby'd popped up in the same town Magolor'd coincidentally been visiting. Where Kirby had gone, Magolor didn't care for. He was excited to take money. Which he did. Kirby'd exchanged maybe.. Forty or so of a homely currency with him that first day, the pinky got thousands of apples, had the tree ascend to a great height, and simply bought everything.

Magolor'd looked at the hundreds, thousands of apples he'd now collected. The huge sack he'd put them in was brimming full, he'd actually needed two. Yes, he was certainly wealthy this week. But looking at the bag at the back of his little shop reminded him of what happened last time. Money doesn't last around here, no, when there's other businessmen who mark up things like Magolor did.

Magolor's expression now, when he was alone and the sunset fell over the kingdom, allowed himself to look positively miserable. All of this was essentially all he would be getting for the next.. Who knows how many years until Kirby showed up again. How was he supposed to cope? He couldn't steal from the literal money tree in the square— no matter how hard he tried, that Bandanna never moved from it. And, well, asking for some money was simply out of the question. He'd never try something like that, he wasn't some filthy beggar.

"What am I supposed to do?" 

Magolor'd asked himself out loud, as though someone else would answer it for him. He leaned against the front till with his back, staring blankly at the moneybags he'd gotten. Maybe some divine intervention, whatever gods were watching, would give him an epiphany and allow him to figure out what to do. He was an armor salesman through and through, and trying to do anything else just felt.. Wrong. Beneath him. Armor and swords were cool, and he sold the best of the best _ to _the best of the best. He can't just switch professions! Why, that's an incredibly awful idea that he'd give absolutely zero thought to.

"It's not like I can just force people to buy stuff from me, they don't need any of my things unless they're Kirby.."

Magolor pushed on his cheeks with his hands. The silent, watching orange sun on his back provided him no answers. Neither did the soft breeze through the kingdom. Neither did the idle chatter of the townsfolk, nor did the strange noises of that 'Gooey' fellow do anything to resolve his small quarrel. Oh Kirby, why didn't you just come back and fix this too?

Magolor sighed, realized how ridiculous he looked, and just put his hands by his sides and lowered his ears.

"How am I supposed to get business when it's peaceful?"

He wondered.

It's not like he could just.. Cause trouble. He wasn't very strong, he wasn't all too evil (in his opinion), and he certainly wasn't willing to get beaten up like all these other shmucks and monsters were. He was just a simple, humble little man who took money and gave armor and weapons to fight with. Nothing more. He had items and all that galore, but he most certainly didn't have-

Magolor's eyes widened in realization. 

Magolor scrambled through his shop and out the side of it, heading to the bulletin board before Bandanna had a chance to clear it off like he'd done last year. All the things Kirby'd cleared were still up, with their locations and with the details and descriptions and everything. With Bandanna having a afternoon nap, he was none the wiser to Magolor's view. Not that he'd question it.

Magolor took multiple of them. Some of the new ones reminded him of the old ones that Kirby did multiple years ago. He'd ripped them off with no abandon, headed back into his shop to lock up, then he was out travelling. 

With no monsters on the roads or anywhere, he was safe to do so. He'd flown all the way to designated location, the last place that Parallel Nightmare was supposed to be before Kirby fought him off. There, he'd found ashes that twinkled like stars. He didn't know how, but he felt an.. Aura of hatred about it. He'd neglected to bring much of anything to collect it, so he had to take off his cape and use it instead, scraping all the dust into to the bag-like shape of his cape. He'd grimaced, already knowing that all the glittery ash was going to be staying on him like a plague after this.

He'd tied his cape shut like a trash bag, ensuring he'd be taking it around easily.

Just as he'd figured he was fine to leave, another glimmer caught his eye. A small piece of dark glass, shimmering with the night sky. It thumped and tapped against the ground as though the earth trembled, or a heart beat was inside of it.

Curious, Magolor picked the glass carefully off the dirt and brushed the surface clean of excess glimmering dust. The chunk of glass exposed a frantic, crimson eye trapped inside of the reflective surface, yellow, perfect hair that looked more like plastic than anything. The white of the eye shot and constricted directly at him, knowing of his presence. Magolor gasped and dropped the thing like it had a cockroach or mouse on it.

Though, when nothing came, he'd picked it back up. He hadn't heard much about about the physicality of the villain from years back, not as much as he did about Parallel Nightmare, but the aura of the shards.. He knew this had to be them. Dark Taranza. Magolor stared deeply into the shard, whose mute eye spoke words of torment to him. 

Magolor, sheepish, put the shard in with the dust in his cape, hoping the edges would be softened amongst the sparkling ash. From there, he searched the plains for more glass, finding plenty others, but one stuck out to him most. A piece of mouth. He'd held it in his hand, fearful of what the man inside the glass might scream about should the eye and mouth pieces reunite. He'd exchanged the eye piece inside the bag for the rest of the shards he'd collected, trying not to make eyecontact with the villain as he did so. He'd carried it in his hand.

Feeling he was done, he'd returned to the kingdom's grounds and retreated into his home. His humble abode was small, much too small for someone like him. Made of plain oak wood and furnished with the fewest amount of things one needed to live comfortably. This house was the only one he'd found with a sizable storage basement, where his excess swords and armor-pieces laid in wait for the next big disaster to brew overhead and eventually rain fire upon all the innocents below.

He'd cleared out a small space and deposited his cape onto the cold stone floor, unwrapping it to reveal the glass and the harmless glitter. Magolor, now, pressed the eye and mouth piece together. The glass shakily fused, the fission between the two becoming nothing as light bonded the pieces perfectly. The man coughed and sputtered, holding a humble look on his shattered face as he gulped down air.

"Who are you, pissant? For what reason have you saved me?"

Dark Taranza growled from within his reflective prison, cross with suspicion. Magolor held tight to the glass.

"I'm Magolor, I'm a simple armor and swords salesman. I-"

"Pathetic. Answer my question." Dark Taranza's reminded him of an angry customer when they tried to get their money back, not understanding that Magolor doesn't do refunds.

"I need your help."

"Ah, you are putting me in your debt to help you? You disgust me. I don't stoop to lick the boots of any and every foot-having peasant in my kingdom."

"Listen," Magolor flattened his ears back, "if you don't help me I can just put you back in the wasteland I found you in and ask Nightmare for help instead. I was going for him in the first place, I only just _ happened _to find you too. If you don't want to help me, I won't help you either."

"Y-You're abhorrent!" The dark spider whined. "Talking this way to a king! How dare you!"

"Sorry.." 

Magolor mumbled, looking down to the dust. He hadn't thought about it until now, but how was he supposed to. Do anything with Parallel Nightmare. He was just dust now.. Unlike the ex-king Magolor held in his hands, he wasn't even alive. 

Magolor looked back at the king.

"I'll leave you alone back in the battlefield if you don't tell me how to make Nightmare not be dead."

"I'm not helping you!"

The spider snarled, and Magolor shrugged with his zero shoulders. He'd gently put the glass shard down onto the floor, and the dark king shot a wide-eyed look.

"Where are you going!?"

"If you don't want to help me, then-"

"No! I've decided, since it benefits me," suddenly Dark Taranza was singing such a nicer tune at the threat of being alone until he complied, "I will help you. But you're going to have to give me all my shards back first."

"Resurrect Parallel Nightmare first."

"I can't do that without my hands, you brainless worm." Dark Taranza huffed.

Against Magolor's better judgement, he did as he was told, and he slowly reassembled Dark Taranza's body like it were a puzzle and he was but a simple, bored old lady on a weekend. With each connection, new piece added, the spider winced and made various noises of strain and relief. It made Magolor's face wrinkled, but he was reassured by the complete lack of blush on the spider's face that it wasn't anything rancid. Perhaps it was like a painful massage for him.

The glass shimmered deeply as the final piece came into place with a satisfying click. The picture of Taranza disappeared into the darkness as the pane lifted itself, the void expanding and turning from flat to round, parts bubbling like yeast, and bulging like he were bread left to rise. The void sucked itself back into the spider's body, absorbing into the parts where it was darkest, as he was brought back into the third dimension.

Dark Taranza stretched, giggling with glee as his six arms trembled in the air, feeling the push of gravity and the stagnant air of the storage basement upon them.

"Resurrect Parallel Nightmare now, please."

While the dark king had busied himself with stretching, Magolor had bothered to go grab a spare magical yellow sword he had in stock. Pretty nice thing it was, a rarity of fifteen. Kirbies shelled out the big bucks for these things. He knew he couldn't just not be unprepared.. Not that he knew, in any capacity, how to swing a sword. Dark Taranza looked slightly intimidated, thankfully.

The spider snapped his fingers and the dust erupted into bright red flame and boisterous, howling wails. The screams were in a chorus, high pitched and eerie as they squealed in Magolor's ears. They weren't of pain, they were specifically ones that he'd expected to hear when someone was on the battlefield and their best friend had just gotten stabbed.

From the flames arose Parallel Nightmare, draped with shudders and dread as he loomed over the two, towering, until he hit the ceiling and almost collapsed onto the floor, coughing up flaming dust. His face twisted in rage as he coughed and wheezed, the bright red eye piercing through the crack of the man's glasses forced Magolor's eggspine to shudder, despite the fact that he had a weapon for comfort.

"I need you two's help.. Please help me."

"Get on with it, pissant, before I shove you out of the way and take my leave."

Dark Taranza scowled, and Parallel Nightmare was recovering fairly quickly, his scowl much more toothy. 

"Peace doesn't sell," Magolor admitted, "but chaos does. Fear and the need for heroes.. It means I can live comfortably. Cause as much trouble as you please to Dreamland, that's all I ask. And.. Don't hurt me."

The two men looked awestruck at first, but their sinister grins quickly grew. They found ease in knowing they were in the comfort and care of a fellow villain.


End file.
